


The Last Night of Our Previous Lives

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Episode Related, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-26
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before rolling in to Carthage, Victor and Castiel have a moment. Takes place in an alternate reality where Victor lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night of Our Previous Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XI, prompts: "comfort, mission".

If someone had asked Victor a couple of years ago what he thought he’d be doing at this moment in time, plotting to stop the literal end of the world wouldn’t have been anywhere near the list of possibilities.

The _metaphorical_ end of the world, sure – recycling, carpooling and going for dolphin-friendly tuna where possible was always good – but not _this_ , sitting in the kitchen of one Bobby Singer’s house while a bunch hunters sit around pulling what few smiles they can from each other in the anticipatory night before an assault on Lucifer himself.

How times change.

Victor takes a swig from his beer bottle, shifting subtly at the spot against the wall he’s chosen to observe said hunters in their natural habitat. Sam and Dean are having a conversation that may turn into an argument over a map of Carthage, Jo and Ellen are clearing up their shotglasses, and Bobby’s off doing who knows what old hunters do before a (likely) suicide mission.

“I’m told that this is a good time to reflect on life,” Castiel says, so unexpectedly close that Victor barely stops himself from shoving a defensive elbow into the source of the sound.

It’s funny. Back at the agency his peers used to call him suspiciously sharp almost to the point of paranoia, but it’s turned out that he’s not paranoid _enough_ for some of the shit that exists out here in the shadowy cracks between the normal world. Having to deal with an angel who barely understands the human skin its wearing and the necessity of _not creeping up on people_ is but one of the many things Quantico didn’t prep him for.

“Sometimes that’s right,” Victor says with a shrug, “Sometimes it’s hella wrong. I made my peace the day I walked away from my... from everything. I chose this and I know I’m never going back, but that’s okay. I’m here because I want to be, and I have no regrets.”

Castiel makes a soft sound, something he’s probably picked up from hanging around ‘ol meatsuits like himself over the past couple of months. He says, sounding almost reluctantly impressed, “That’s a very wise thing to say, Victor.”

“Compliment, from an angel,” Victor says, grinning over at him. He takes another slow swig, watching the uncomfortable hunched line of Castiel’s shoulders, wondering whether that’s a leftover from Jimmy or just Castiel not knowing how to prop up his suit. “So you going to spend the night praying that our mission’ll work tomorrow?”

Castiel blinks slowly, like it’s something he’s deliberately choosing to do instead of giving an answer. “Maybe,” he says, which isn’t an answer at all. “You?”

“Wasn’t really religious to begin with,” Victor admits.

“I don’t think,” Castiel says, “That many of my kind are religious, either.”

That startles a laugh out of Victor, before he realizes that it isn’t a joke, not _really_. Castiel doesn’t look hurt, though, and accepts Victor’s laugh with a solemn nod, as if he has deemed Victor’s reaction as sensible and just.

He wonders what his momma would think of angels, _real_ angels.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Victor says, some small part of mind recognizing how surreal it is that in this roomful of motley characters, it’s the non-human one he’s latched on to. Sam, Dean and the others have a vocabulary and shared history he only has enough energy to keep up with when it counts, and for all that he’s accepting of his new role in the world, he’s gotten enough civilian rookie bullshit from other hunters to hate the arbitrary divide between those with the cause in their bones and those who’ve joined the party late.

Tomorrow means something different to the hunters. They have their rituals, and Victor’s not part of that, but that’s okay. He departed normal of his own free will, and so did Castiel, even if they’d arrived at this same spot from differing directions.

Together they walk away from the kitchen, Castiel a quiet presence against his side until they make it around a corner and the angel’s pushing him up against the wall, fists in his shirt and mouth pressing against his own.

“Wait, what?” Victor says, head thumping back almost hard enough to give himself a concussion.

“Wasn’t that an invitation for sex?” Castiel asks. He looks down to where his hands are pressed against Victor’s chest, a firm presence that isn’t all that bad, and then back up at Victor’s face. “It’s my understanding that when humans say that, the intention is sex.”

“Not always,” Victor says, though he’s not protesting that hard when Castiel’s hands move up and down his chest in a gesture that’s almost soothing. “Okay, most of the time it leads to sex, but this isn’t – hell, man, you’re an angel.”

“Not a very good one, as we’ve established.” Castiel’s hand pauses, the tip of one finger finding the outline of a nipple and circling it gently, making Victor grunt with surprise. “And I thought you said you weren’t religious.”

“It’s not religion I’m worried about,” Victor mutters, though he’s maybe pushing a little bit into Castiel’s hand, which is doing every interesting experimental things with the pressure of fingertips and nails. “I haven’t had sex with anything that wasn’t human.”

“Neither have I,” Castiel says, and Victor barks another laugh at that. This one _is_ a joke, Castiel’s mouth curving upwards a little in an intriguing shape. It’s definitely intriguing enough that Victor takes it in a kiss, breathing hot against Castiel’s lips and then sliding his tongue into Castiel’s mouth.

Victor supposed that even an angel deserved a couple of orgasms before biting the dust.

“C’mon,” he breathes, once he manages to pull away from the delicious heat of Castiel’s mouth. He tugs on Castiel’s tie, and he goes easily, following Victor’s lead.

It’s definitely a time of firsts for Victor.

If someone had asked Victor a couple of years ago what he’d be doing at this moment in time, he’d probably have guessed: wrapping up one or two cases, getting a commendation here or there, maybe finally buying that house he’s always wanted in the abstract.

Instead he’s here, standing on a precipice where the fate of all of humanity hangs in the balance, and he’s one of the hands holding the trigger. Victor’d had to unlearn and relearn almost everything about life when he’d joined up in this shtick, so maybe burying himself deep inside the body of a slowly-descending angel and making him scream was par for the course in this brave new world.


End file.
